


A Big Brother Day

by RemyRemedial



Series: The 'Stag Do' Universe [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Family Feels, Family Fluff, Non-Sexual Age Play, Sibling Bonding, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 06:36:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14806220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RemyRemedial/pseuds/RemyRemedial
Summary: When Mycroft and Greg are called away from the cottage for work. Sherlock asks if he can take care of John for the day, as his big brother.





	A Big Brother Day

Sherlock stood in front of the mirror in Mycroft and Greg’s bedroom, trying to ‘psych’ himself up. He could do this, he could absolutely do this. Sure, he had never taken care of John-John on his own before, but he’d work it out. He was Sherlock ‘fuckin’ Holmes, of course! It was one day, and one night. That was all. Mm. Totally manageable. If not completely terrifying.

He turned the gold coin, engraved with his, John’s and Greg’s initials over in his palm. It was one of the many identical ones that Mycroft had made by a jeweller to wear in the pocket of his suits. He had given one to Sherlock the night before as a display of his belief in him.

He looked himself up and down, he had purposefully decided to ‘dress down’ for the day. He was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a grey sweatshirt, typical big brother attire, he thought. Besides, he had spent enough time with little John when he himself was little to know that the boy had an uncanny ability to get everything he touched messy. There was no way he was going to let the little bugger ruin a good suit.

“Right.” He slipped the coin into his pocket and walked out onto the landing, standing outside John’s (and normally Sherlock’s) room. Bloody hell he was adorable, fast asleep, wrapped up in a duvet with Bear (the teddy bear, named by John-John) under his chin.

“John.” He said gently, as he walked into the room, crouching down next to the bed. “John, sweetheart, time to get up.” Sherlock reached forward and gently stroked the boy’s hair. 

“Mm.” John mumbled as he half opened his eyes.

“Good morning.” Sherlock smiled, “Time to get up.”

“Mm no.” John pulled Bear up to hide his face.

“I’m afraid so. It’s just you and me today, John, remember?”

John peaked out from behind Bear, “Jus us?”

“Yes, Da and Pa have both gone to work but they’ll be back when you’re sleeping tonight.”

“Back at night-night?”

“That’s right, clever boy, they’ll be here when you wake up in the morning.”

“Buh I’m wake now?”

“Yes, you are, that’s right. But Da and Pa will be back when you wake up tomorrow.”

“Is noh tomorrow yet?”

“No darling.” Sherlock smiled, “Not yet, it’s today.”

“Oh, okay. So is jus me an Lock tuh-day?”

“That’s it, you’ve got it.” Sherlock beamed at John, proud of him for understanding and leaned in to kiss his nose. “You’re a smart boy, what are you?”

“Smart boy.” John blushed and hid behind Bear again.

“Yes you are! Right,” Sherlock clapped his hands and stood up, looking down at John, “Time for breakfast little brother.”

“Yay!” John threw the covers off and knelt up on the bed, Bear still in one hand he threw both hands up at Sherlock.

“Did you sleep well? Are you still dry?”

“Mm.” John thought for a moment, “Yeh!” He grinned up at Sherlock.

“Oh what a brilliant boy, jump up on my back then, I’ll carry you down.”

“Yay!” John climbed up and wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s shoulders and let Bear and himself be carried down to the kitchen.

Once they were in the kitchen Sherlock sat John down on his favourite chair at the table and picked up John’s new favourite toy from the counter top, putting it down in front of him. It was an old chopping board that Greg had modified, screwing on some old taps and gears and anything shiny that he could spin around. He’d made it the day after he’d caught John playing with the bathroom taps, only a little while after he had tried to devour his wrist watch. John clapped and looked down at the board before he started playing with it and Sherlock set about making breakfast. Yoghurt and fruit. Simple.

“Dis one goes wun way but ih wont go da uvva way, see?!”

“Oh yes, I see.” Sherlock poured some yoghurt and strawberries into a plastic bowl for John and the same into a cereal bowl for himself before sitting down next to his little brother.

“An dis wun is tha shiniest, so is probly tha most speshal.”

“Mm, do you want me to feed you or do you want to do it?”

“You do ih.” John didn’t take his eyes off of his toy, “Dis wun is noisy, huh?” He asked as he turned one of the gear and it made a clicking sound.

“Yes it is, do you like the noisy ones? Open up please, dear.” (Dear? Christ he was turning into his own big brother. Sherlock rolled his eyes, at himself, a first). 

“Like boff.” John nodded before opening his mouth and letting Sherlock feed him a mouthful. “Wish wun is Lock fave-rit?” 

“Mm, let me think,” Sherlock fed himself a mouthful before doing the same for John, “I think they’re all lovely.” He nodded as he wiped some stray yoghurt from John’s chin.

“Dassa good ansa.” John nodded.

“Mm, I think so. What would you like to do today?” Sherlock asked as he kept up the pattern of feeding John then himself.

“Dis pease.” John patted the board with his palm.

“Just this?”

“Yeh!”

“Well I know that this is your favourite toy and we can absolutely play with it, but wouldn’t you like to do something else as well? Play in the garden, go for a walk, colouring, play with your other toys, watch cartoo-“

“Toons!” John nodded and smiled, “An dis. Dis an toons pease.” John kept patting the toy to indicate what ‘dis’ was. 

“Okay.” Sherlock chuckled, “Good boy for being so polite,” He ruffled John’s hair, “Well, here’s the plan, Stan-“

“Who he?” John asked tilting his head at Sherlock.

“Oh, no one, sorry. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll get you dressed, then you and me will go for a little walk, then we’ll come back and have some lunch, then naptime, cartoons, dinner, bath time and bed.” Sherlock was really listing these things to organise his own thoughts, mm, that sounded like a fine day. Nothing dangerous or silly that could end up with him being in trouble when Greg and Mycroft returned home. “How does that sound, John-John?”

“Good.” John nodded.

“Good.” Sherlock mimicked John’s nod making the little one laugh, “Right, you play for a minute while I tidy up.” He kissed John on the top of his head and moved away to wash up. Once he was finished tidying the kitchen he used a damp cloth to clean off any remnants of breakfast from John’s face and smiled down at him. “All done, let’s get you dressed for a walk.”

“Kay!” John hopped off the chair and raced off ahead of Sherlock,

“Careful on the stairs, John!”

“Kay!”

Sherlock found John sat on the floor in his bedroom, holding a pair of bright blue pyjamas out at him, “Jammies an jumpah, Lock?”

“That’s right, clever clogs. Are these the ones you want?”

“Yeh!” John nodded, and Sherlock took them off him,

“Lovely, hop up on the bed and lie down please.” Sherlock picked the thickets jumper he could find out of the wardrobe and set about getting John dressed.

“I think we’ll need wellies today, little brother.”

“Puddles?”

“Oh, I should think so.” Sherlock waggled his eyebrows as he looked down at John, making the boy giggle. “Sit up for me, let’s get this jumper on.” John did as he was told, and Sherlock made a show of getting the jumper over his head, ‘losing’ John several times and by the time the boy was dressed he was out of breath from giggling, his face flushed red. “Oh,” Sherlock crouched down next to the bed and put his hand on John’s chest. “Deep breaths John.” John nodded and tried his best to calm down as Sherlock rubbed calming circles on his chest and kept eye contact with him, “Such a good boy, hm? There we go.” Once John was calm Sherlock sat next to him on the bed and wrapped an arm around him, “What do you say Master Watson, ready for a walk?”

“A-huh!” John smiled and looked up at Sherlock.

“Let’s go downstairs and get our wellies on then.” John hurried out of the room ahead of Sherlock.

Once they were both downstairs Sherlock pulled their wellies from the cupboard and sat down on the mat next to John. “Do you think you can copy me, John? Put your own shoes on, since you’re such a clever boy?” Sherlock only suggested this as wellies were, of course, a pull on, pull off affair, he would never set John up to fail at something.

“A-huh!” Sure enough John copied Sherlock and pulled on his own shoes.

“Would you look at that! Don’t tell Pa I said this but I think you might be the smartest one in this family.” Sherlock winked down at John. John gasped.

“Really?”

“Mm, I think so.” Sherlock nodded seriously before gracefully standing up and slightly less gracefully pulling John to his feet. “Now then, what are the rules when we go for a walk, John-John?”

“Old ‘ands.” John wiggled his fingers as he always did in response to this question. 

“That’s right.” Sherlock beamed, taking John’s waterproof coat off the hook and helping John into it, before putting his own on. “Right then, your hand if you please?” Sherlock held out his hand and John took it. “Let’s go.” Sherlock led John out of the front door.

For the first part of their walk Sherlock tried to keep John’s interest on ‘educational’ topics, pointing out particular birds and naming each of the different plant species as they past. However after a while he noticed John was losing interest and fell quiet, deciding to let John chose what they spoke about. For a while they spoke about nothing, simply walking together. Sherlock would break out into a grin every time John leaned against him or looked up at him with a smile.

“Why is Da and Pa goned, Lock?”

“Well, they’ve both got to work today, they had to go back to London.”

“Oh. Thas noh fun.”

“No, it’s not. But remember they’ll be back in the morning, so you’re not to worry.”

“I remembers.” 

“Clever boy.”

“Puddle!” John raced forward, letting go of Sherlock’s hand he ran a few paces ahead and jumped into the puddle, then giggling and turning back to look at Sherlock he saw that his big brother was not impressed.

“John, what is the rule when we go on walks?”

“Old ‘ands.” John sighed, “Sorry.”

“Mm, don’t do that again, please.” Sherlock strode over to him and took a hold of John’s hand and they kept on walking.

“Why do we gots ta old ands when we walks?” John asked, swinging his and Sherlock’s arms back and forth.

“So I can make sure you’re safe.”

“Ohh, dassa good reason.” John nodded.

“Yes it is. Being safe is very important.” Sherlock nodded.

“Lock noh always safe.” John tilted his head as he looked up at Sherlock.

“No, I’m not always safe, you’re right. I need to try harder, don’t I? Be more like John-John.”

“Yeh! Cos I smarts!”

“That you are.”

“Owww, oww! Puddle, Lock look!” John pointed over in the direction of another, brilliantly large, puddle.

“Oh that’s a good one. Come on.” Sherlock changed their route a little until they were both stood in front of it, “Shall we jump together?”

“Yeh!”

“One, two, three!” On three they both jumped, causing an almighty splash of muddy water. They both laughed but Sherlock noticed John shiver, just a little. “Right, time to head back home, dear.”

“Okay.” John nodded, following after Sherlock as he started to walk back to the house, still holding onto John’s hand tightly. “Lock?”

“Yes John?”

“Tired.” Sherlock stopped walking and turned to look at John, he did look quite tired, and a bit cold. Maybe a walk wasn’t a good idea. Maybe a walk was a terrible idea. What if John got hypothermia and died. No. Stop it, brain, god, worrying is so exhausting. “Mm, let’s get you home, hop up on my back.”

“Yay!” John clambered up and Sherlock started to carry him back, John rested his head on Sherlock’s shoulder and closed his eyes. He didn’t have to worry about anything, his big brother had him. 

Once they were safely back inside the house Sherlock let John down. “Right, let’s get you out of these wet clothes.”

“Kay.” John wiped his face with the back of his hand and stood limply as Sherlock took his clothes off, leaving them in a pile at the bottom of the stairs. He took off his own shoes and coat and picked up a now naked John, this time carrying him on his hip he took him upstairs. He always considered himself to be far, far, far more physically fit than either Mycroft or Greg, but he had to admit all of this carrying around of adult/children was murder on the back.

Once they were up in John’s bedroom Sherlock found the warmest, fluffiest pyjamas he could find and got John dressed. Once he was dressed Sherlock wrapped him up in a hug, rocking him back and forth and kissing the top of his head. “Mm, nap time I think.”

“Okay.” John nodded against Sherlock’s chest. Wow. Well that was easy. What was with all the fuss that Mycroft and Greg made about getting them lie down for a nap. How over-dramatic. Oh, no little Sherlock today, that might be it. Sherlock pulled the covers back on John’s bed and helped him in, tucking him up with Bear he leaned down to kiss his nose. 

“Can you stay pease?” John asked with the most angelic eyes Sherlock had ever seen. He had been intending to tidy up downstairs and get some lunch ready for John but, the boy was just so cute. 

“Yes, of course I’ll stay. Budge up and I’ll lie next to you.” John smiled and slid over, curling up into Sherlock once they were both on the bed. “Now, close your eyes please John, it’s nap time.” 

“Kay Lock.” John sighed and was soon fast asleep.

As it turned out, so was Sherlock. He didn’t realise until there was a finger poking his cheek, again and again and again.

“Yes?” He asked without opening his eyes.

“I’m wake now.” John declared and Sherlock squinted at him.

“So you are.”

“Toons now?”

“Just give me a moment.”

“Toons now?”

“Just a moment John.”

“Buh toons now?”

“John.” Sherlock dropped his voice an octave and John fell silent. He checked his phone, they had been asleep for a couple of hours. If they got up not they could watch some telly, play with John’s toys, have dinner and get John bathed before bed. “Right,” Sherlock stood up and stretched, looking down at John who was sitting up right, holding Bear tight. “Cartoons you say?”

“Peeeease!” 

“What are the rules with cartoons, John?”

John sighed and looked down at Bear.

“John?”

“Noh for long.”

“That’s right.”

“Too many rules.” John grumbled.

“Well there are rules for good reasons.”

“Stupid rules.”

“Watch you tone please, John, or we won’t want cartoons at all.” 

“Noh fair!” John jumped up onto his knees, suddenly furious.

“Hey, hey, I just asked you to watch your tone. Which you are most certainly not doing right now.”

“Hmf.”

“You have to behave if you want to watch cartoons, John. So are you going to be a good boy?”

John sighed loudly. “Yeh.”

“Well I’m not sure I like this attitude, young man.” Sherlock arched an eyebrow and looked down at him, John blushed.

“Sorry.”

“That’s better. Come on, let’s go downstairs.” John hopped off the bed and Sherlock made the bed behind him, before joining him in the living room. John was already sat on the sofa, his legs stretched out straight in front of him, Bear in his lap. “Now, are you going to behave, John? Or do you need some time in the corner to calm down?” Sherlock asked, hands on his hips. 

“Behave.” John mumbled, looking very sorry. 

“Good boy, that’s more like it. Would you like some juice?”

“Pease?”

“Very good.” Sherlock reached over and stroked John’s hair, “I’ll be right back.”

 

Half an hour, and two juice boxes later, Sherlock reached for the remote and turned off the television.

“No!” John suddenly reached across him and tried to pull the remote from his grasp.

“John, stop it.” Sherlock managed to get the remote out of John’s reach when he was pushed, hard, in the stomach.

“No!”

That morning (and truthfully most of the night before), Sherlock had laid awake worrying about what it would be that John would get in trouble over. He had survived the walk, waltzed through nap time. Of course, it had to be bloody cartoons. Adult Sherlock wanted Mycroft to outlaw the things all together, but little Sherlock thought that was tantamount to torture. Whether it was the colours or the noises or the shapes (he doubted it was the ‘intricate story lines’), whatever it was, cartoons were basically toddler smack and John had just heard that his dealer was cutting him off.

“Owf.” Sherlock stood up, catching his breath and hiding the remote in his back pocket. He’d just about righted himself when John pushed him again. 

“More!”

“Most certainly no more!” Sherlock shook off his surprise and pulled himself up to his full height, standing over John who was still on the sofa. “John if you push me one more time I promise you will not sit for a week!” Sherlock was sure he heard John gulp, he certainly did not push his big brother again. “Right, time out for you, young man.” Sherlock took a hold of John’s arm and he went completely limp.

“No!” Sherlock tried to engage all of his muscles to pull John up, but it just wasn’t working.

“Right.” Sherlock let go on John’s arm and glared down at him. “Two options, John Hamish. One, you sit on your bum in the corner for five minutes. Two, you sit on a sore bum in the corner for five minutes. What will it be?”

John gave Sherlock his most menacing, three-year-old glare. 

“You have three seconds to get your naughty bottom in that corner, or I’ll smack it. One.”

John didn’t move.

“Two.”

Sherlock’s internal monologue was racing. That bloody, cheeky, little…I swear I’ll spank him into next week if he doesn’t…

“Th-“ With that John raced from the sofa to his usual corner. Sitting down with a loud huff before Sherlock could finish the word. Sherlock sighed and collected John’s egg timer from the shelves, he approached John who was sitting sideways against the wall, legs pulled up to his chest. He put the egg timer down on the sideboard and looked down at John. “Sit properly, John.” John didn’t move or look up, so Sherlock took him by the shoulders and turned him until he was facing the corner. “Cross your legs.” When John didn’t do as he was told Sherlock leaned down and smacked the back of his thigh, which unfortunately for John was exposed in his stropping position. 

“Ow.”

“This is absolutely your last warning, little boy, sit properly.” John relented and crossed his legs. “Right, now I can start your timer.” Sherlock did as he said he would and stood back, leaning against the back of the sofa to watch John closely.

The five minutes clearly passed far more quickly for Sherlock than John. Sherlock spent the whole-time readying each of John’s body movements, trying the guess what he was going to do next and hoping that the little monster didn’t make him spank him, not the very first time he was left in charge. It must have gone very slowly for John though because when the egg timer went off he let out a long sigh and flung his head back to look up at Sherlock.

“Done now?” he asked. Sherlock stood over him, still clearly unimpressed.

“Time out is done. You and I are most certainly not.” Sherlock put his hands under John’s arms and pulled him up. “Go and sit on the sofa.” Sherlock swatted him, not altogether lightly, in the right direction. John rubbed his bum before sitting down and Sherlock stood in front of him. “That was very, very naughty John.” 

John looked down and started fidgeting with his socks.

“Ah, ah, look at me when I’m talking to you.” John looked up through his lashes. “You know that was very naughty, don’t you?”

“Mm.” John nodded.

“You are not to do that ever again, John. And if you do, I will most certainly spank you, even if Da and Pa already have. Do you hear me?”

“Yessir.” John mumbled.

“Very good. Now I expect you to be on your very best behaviour for the rest of the day, understood?”

“Mm.” John nodded again.

“Right, go and sit at the table, you can play while I make you some dinner.”

John nodded and hopped off the sofa, noticing Bear and taking him along with him. 

Sherlock took a moment to compose himself before following after John. He glanced around the room, rearranged the cushions, picked up the pile of washing he had left on the floor earlier and for good measure, unplugged the television from the wall. 

Once the washing was in the machine, the kitchen surfaces had been wiped and Sherlock had a long cold class of water, he turned to look at John playing with his board of ‘turny things’. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Right, tomato soup for tea.” Sherlock clapped his hands, almost to encourage himself. This big brother lark was tiring.

“Ohh, like mato’s.” John nodded, not looking up from his toy.

“I know you do.” Sherlock chuckled, as he rooted out a couple of tins in the cupboard and emptied them into a pan.

“Lock?”

“Yes dear?”

“Why is dis wun different?” Sherlock looked over at John who was pointing at one of the gears, he walked over to stand behind his little brother and peered down at the particular gear that John was poking.

“Ah, because that one is brass, the others are silver.”

“So is different colour?” John asked leaning back to look at Sherlock.

“That’s right.” Sherlock ruffled John’s hair and went back to preparing dinner.

“They’s shiny.”

“Yes they are.”

“Shiny is my fave-rit colour.”

“Well shiny is really…” Sherlock trailed off realising that was far too confusing a conversation for John at the moment, “Is a really good colour, isn’t it?”

“Issa best colour. Is my fave-rit wun.” 

“Well then it must be the best.” Sherlock continued heating up the soup and John carried on playing until Sherlock bought over their bowls, keeping them both firmly out of John’s grabby little hands, Sherlock moved the toy…

“Ohhhh.”

…Out of the way. “Just while we eat, little brother.”

“I do it!” John tried to reach over Sherlock, but he had anticipated this move from the tiny monster and took each of John’s hands in his own, “Ah, ah!” and turned to face John properly. “Now, the soup is hot, so I’m going to feed you dinner this evening.”

“Noooo I wanna do it!”

“I know you do, but you let me feed you breakfast, didn’t you?” Sherlock tried to tilt John’s head up to look at him, whilst not letting go of his fidgety little fists. “Look at me, please, John-John.”

John sighed but looked up at Sherlock. “Tha was diff-rent.” John pouted, Sherlock tried to hide his smile, caused by John’s unbearable cuteness, it would seem that said cuteness had no appreciation of timing, coming on in droves when Sherlock was trying to be very serious and responsible. 

“Why was it different?”

“Dunno.” John shrugged. 

“Okay, so that was different. But right now, our dinner is hot isn’t it?”

“Mmhm.” John nodded.

“Mm, yes, it is. Now what does Da always say, hm? If we touch hot things…” Sherlock left the rest of the sentence for John.

“We geh hot bums.” John grumbled.

“Exactly.” Sherlock nodded, “And you don’t want that, do you?”

“No!” John shook his head and Sherlock smiled.

“Are you sure?” Sherlock finally let go of John’s hands, fairly certain that he wouldn’t do anything silly, and reached out to tickle John’s neck, making him giggle.

“Yeh!”

“Very, very sure?” He tickled John’s ribs this time making him squirm and giggle at the same time, it was rather delightful.

“Yeh, yeh, yeh! Stop!”

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop, if you stop pouting at me, hm?” Sherlock locked eyes with John and got a small smile in return,

“Kay, Lock.”

“Thank you, good boy. Come here then,”

“Lap?” John’s eyes lit up.

“If you’d like.” Sherlock smiled, and John crawled from his seat onto Sherlock’s lap instead of answering. His big brother had left just enough room for John to comfortably sit sideways on his lap and once he was comfortable he grinned at Sherlock. “Right, dinner time.” It wasn’t an easy task feeding John this time as he was more preoccupied with rubbing his cheek on Sherlock’s chest and asking him very important questions.

“Was your fave-rit colour?”

“You know, I’m not sure I have one. Chin up, John,”

“You mush av a fave-rit!”

“Must I? Open up…thank you.”

“Yeh! Evie wun dus.”

“Okay, then my favourite is blue.”

“No’s not!” John snorted, forcing Sherlock to put down the spoon and lightly smack his back a few times.

“Better?”

“Yeh fankoo.”

“You’re very welcome.”

“Blue’s not your fave-rit.” John shook his head.

“Why can’t blue be my favourite?”

“Cos it’s too booo-ring.” John did his best impression of Sherlock but got the inflection ever so slightly wrong, making his big brother smirk behind his back.

“Ah, I think you’re right, so then John-John, what is my favourite colour?”

“Mm.” John thought for a minute, shook his head at the suggestion of more soup and finally decided to just curl up against his brother. “Rainbow.” He nodded.

“Rainbow?” Sherlock’s inner monologue was trying to decide if now was the time to discuss the merits of the concept of rainbow as a singular colour versus the more commonly accepted principle of a rainbow being made up of a myriad of colours. Or in the case of the colouring books and cartoons John watched, the seven colour Newton sequence. Thinking about it, John thought ‘shiny’ was a colour so now really wasn’t the time. “Rainbow, yes I think you’re right.” Sherlock kissed John’s hair and rubbed his back gently. “And now I think it’s bath time.”

“M’okay.” John murmured, his thumb making its way into his mouth.

Mycroft and Greg had been working on moving John away from his thumb or pacifiers when he was this age, but still allowing them for when he was younger. It seemed like a very natural part of parenting to help toddler John stop sucking his thumb. However, they hadn’t fully completed the transition and at the moment John was allowed a pacifier once it was time for his night time bath. 

“You’ve been very good today, haven’t you John? But no thumb, remember, I’ll get you a dummy.”

“Kay.”

“Up you hop,” Sherlock ushered him off his lap but John quickly took a hold of his hand and shuffled after him as Sherlock approached the draw full of pacifiers, John grabbed Bear off the table where he had been discarded with his free hand. He picked one out and popped it between John’s waiting lips. “There, that’s better, hm?”

“Mmhm.” John nodded, now leaning against Sherlock.

“Bath time, mister.” Sherlock led John up to the bathroom by his hand and sat him on the toilet seat to get him undressed. John was considerably less chatty now he had that glorious little plastic thing in his mouth and appeared to be having a silent conversation with Bear. Sherlock ran the bath and added a few bubbled before helping John into the water. 

John didn’t say anything as Sherlock washed him, barely keeping his eyes open and letting his big brother do all of the work. Soon enough he was out of the bath and wrapped up in a big towel, moaning when Sherlock took his dummy away,

“Just while I get you dry.”

“Kay.”

“Good boy.”

“Av I bin a good boy t’day, Lock?” John asked as Sherlock crouched down to dry his legs and feet.

“Mm, you’ve been a very good boy, because you are a very good boy. But you’ve also been a bit naughty, haven’t you?”

“A bih.” John smirked.

“Hey.” Sherlock started to scold as he wrapped John back up in the towel now that he was dry. “That’s nothing to be proud of, I saw that smile.” Sherlock gave his brother a muffled smack on his bum through the towel to remind him of the peril his backside was still in for the rest of the day and saw John pout.

“Sorry.” He mumbled.

“Mm, best behaviour for the rest of the day I said.” Sherlock looked down his nose, “Don’t be cheeky. Right, bedroom.” John shuffled off to the bedroom and Sherlock gave the bathroom a quick tidy. If he kept John in one piece but left the house in a mess he’d still get a hiding from one of his Dad’s in the morning. Anyway, the day was almost over, he was almost home dry. He remembered to pick up John’s pacifier and joined him in the bedroom.

John was sat on the edge of the bed, still wrapped in his towel, swinging his legs back and forth.

“Good boy, right, which jammies for tonight?”

“Mm.” John thought still kicking his feet, “Winnie!”

“Winnie the Pooh it is.” Sherlock nodded, finding John’s pick of pyjamas and returning to the bed. 

He took the damp towel away and got him ready for bed. Tidying the room as he went and turning off the brighter lights in favour of the small side light. He turned back the covers, made a show of tucking Bear into bed. Slipped the pacifier between John’s lips, dashed off for the sippy-cup of water he had forgotten. Returned back in what he was sure had to be some kind of record and ushered John under the duvet. It was all going so well. He pulled the curtains closed, made up a little song about a boy called John (which he would later realise was some kind of copyright infringement for Johnny Cash), stroked John’s hair and kissed him goodnight. He turned off the light and was backing out of the room, had the door almost half closed-

“Not tired!”

Fuck.

Sherlock opened the door but didn’t turn on any lights. “Yes, you are love, you almost fell asleep at the dinner table. Just close your eyes.”

“No!”

“John.”

“Not tiii-errr-d.” He saw John kick his heels against the mattress. Sherlock tried to keep his voice low and measured, not in any mood to rile the boy up.

“That’s enough, John. Deep breaths and close your eyes.”

“Buh I’m noh sleepy!”

Sherlock sighed and crept back over to John’s bedside, still not turning on any lights. 

“Yes, you are dear, you’re very, very tired.” Sherlock stroked John’s hair, “That’s why you’re grumpy. Just close your eyes.”

“Noh grumpy.” John pouted.

“John.”

“Want Da!”

“I know.” Sherlock sighed, he hadn’t thought about how hard it would be for John being put to bed by someone other than their Da or Pa, for the very first time. He should have seen this coming. He felt for the little guy.

“And Pa!”

“I know, sweetheart. They’ll be home in a few hours and I promise they’ll come and kiss you goodnight.”

“No!” John sat up and tried to push Sherlock back away from his bed. 

“John, no.” Sherlock sighed and turned on the bedside light, standing back up and looking down at his brother. “That’s enough. No pushing or shoving, remember?” Sherlock looked down at John who was glaring back up at him, arms crossed over his chest. “I know this is hard, but you’re a brave boy, and you’re not to be naughty.”

“Noh norty.”

“Right now, yes you are being very naughty.”

“Am not!” John pushed his covers back and clambered up onto his knees, trying to square off with his big brother. Sherlock’s hands unintentionally migrated to his hips and he furrowed his brow.

“Do not test me, John. This is your very, last, warning.” Sherlock pointed one long, threatening index finger at John, “If you don’t settle down right now, you’ll be very sorry. Now lie down and close your eyes and I will stay with you until you fall asleep. Right now, John.” Sherlock nodded his head in the direction of John’s pillow, hoping that would mark the end of the matter. It did not. John huffed from his nose like an angry little dragon and pushed his brother hard, in the chest, not once or twice but three times.

In that moment Sherlock suddenly realised he had never spanked someone before. Never. He had been spanked more times than he could remember and had to hope that he had learned how by osmosis. It must be fairly straight forward, he thought, hoped. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing that right there and then, he had never wanted to spank someone more. By god his little brother could be naughty. He pushed the thought of just where little John had learnt his troublesome ways to the far, far back corner of his brain. He’d be proud about that later, when he wasn’t in charge of the cheeky little thing.

“Right!” Sherlock strode back to the doorway and turned on the lights, “That’s it.” He was back standing over John in a couple of strides and hooked his hands under John’s arms to lift him off the bed. John went limp again, only this time Sherlock found the strength to lift him regardless. John’s eyes went wide as he was quite effortlessly lifted off the bed and stood in front of Sherlock who sat down on the edge of the bed, looking more like Mycroft Holmes than John could remember Sherlock ever looking. Sherlock held John in place with a hand on each of his hips, “Now then, you are getting a smacked bottom young man-“

“Nooo!” John’s hands instinctively went back to protect himself.

“Yes. Then you are going straight back to bed and I will sit in that chair over there and keep an eye on you until Da and Pa get back, since you can’t stop being so naughty.” Sherlock wanted to let John know that he wouldn’t be spanked and left alone to lie in a dark room, he wasn’t some kind of monster, but he didn’t want it to sound like a victory to the very definite little monster in his grip. “Now,” Sherlock moved to pull down John’s pyjamas and pull-up only to be interrupted by two grabby hands,

“Noh fair!”

“Very fair.” Sherlock lightly smacked the hands away and bared John’s bum, “Over my knee,”

“Nooo!”

“Yes.” It was surprisingly easy to manoeuvre little John over across his knee, he was actually very tired after all. As it turns out you can learn how to spank through osmosis. Sherlock was surprised by his own talent. Very quickly John’s bum was a uniform red and he had gone from a theatrical wail to a quiet, tired snuffling. That was enough. Sherlock stood him up and positioned his brother on his lap, there was most definitely a technique to sitting a spanked arse on a lap and Sherlock had that well learnt years ago. He picked up the discarded pacifier from the floor and cleaned it in his own mouth before replacing it between John’s lips. He wiped the tears from the boy’s cheeks and wrapped an arm around him, settling his hand on the back of John’s head and pulling him against his chest. Running his other hand up and down his thigh he shushed him and murmured, “There, there.”

“You’re a silly boy, eh? Can’t help but get yourself in trouble, just like your big brother.” He kissed John on the top of his head and buried his lips in his hair. “There, there, sweetheart, you’re my good little brother.” Sherlock rocked him a few times before noticing John’s eyes had closed. “Sleepy boy. Let’s get you into bed.” He heard John half-heartedly mumbled something behind his dummy, “Hush now, I’m not going anywhere.” He managed to get John comfy lying on his stomach and went to turn off the light, taking off his shoes and jeans as he went, aware that John’s eyes were now very open and watching his every move. He picked up a light cover from the chair he had intended to sit in and got comfy on the bed next to John. His little brother instantly ensured Lock couldn’t go anywhere by pinning him with one leg and resting his head on his chest. Sherlock chuckled and pulled the cover over the two of them. “Night night, baby brother, I love you.” Sherlock murmured.

A few hours later Mycroft and Greg crept along the landing, stopping to look in on their boys who were both fast asleep. They smiled at each other before retreating to their own room. Once they were safely behind a closed door they both started to get undressed, shattered after their long day. 

“God I’ve missed them.” Greg whispered.

“Me too.” Mycroft whispered back.

“Did you see John was on his stomach? I told you Lock would have to spank him.” Greg chuckled as he climbed under the covers.

“Mm, but did you see the state of the kitchen? Lock will be joining him on a cushion for breakfast.” Mycroft grumbled, Greg all too aware that he was not joking.

“Night dear.”

“Night darling.”

And Greg turned off the light.


End file.
